A Hard Bargain (11 page)

“Come for me again, Freya. Now.”

His whispered instruction is none the less commanding, and, incredibly, I find myself obeying. The sensations, which had been subsiding—well, I think they may have been—suddenly erupt in fury once more as another storm of sensation hurls me back into this moment, shuddering, gasping and squeezing him with my inner walls as my body gives up yet another frenzied release. I’m spinning, crazily out of control, my center of gravity scrambled as my body is tossed around in the heady whirlwind. This time though, he’s with me, his own release now imminent as I climb once more to that place which has become delightfully familiar to me this evening. And as my pussy tightens and squeezes him hard before eventually relaxing, his muttered oath, more a growl than words signals his climax and I feel the warmth as his semen spurts out to fill the small sac at the end of the condom. He plunges deep, holding that position as his cock twitches, pulses and empties inside me, his arms rigid, tense, as he takes his weight and mine as I wrap myself tightly around him.

Then it’s done, and he relaxes, rolling swiftly to his side and pulling me with him so I land on top. I’m pathetically grateful for his consideration. I hadn’t expected him to collapse onto me and crush me exactly, but I did wonder…

I lie motionless on top of him, my limp body draped across Nicholas Hardisty’s lean chest and hard thighs. I’m intensely conscious of his firm, sculpted length under me, and I want to sink into him, remain part of him as he’s become a part of me. He’s still inside me, and that joining feels wonderfully intimate to me in those moments as our heart rates calm, dropping from frantic, needy thumping to a soft, sated, rhythmic pulsing. I’m in no hurry to separate from him as our bodies return to normal, this—connection—feels so right to me, and I can’t recall ever feeling so deeply contented.

Not so Mr Hardisty, it would seem, and all too soon he shifts, his palms on my hips as he gently lifts me from him. He rolls away, removing the condom and efficiently knotting the open end. He directs a brief smile at me as he slides from the bed, strolling in all his wonderfully naked glory across the room to the en suite in the corner. I hear the flush as he disposes of the condom, then re-emerges to walk back across the room. I try not to stare, honestly I do. But he is absolutely stunning. Tall, hard, all angular planes and toned, corded muscle. I have no idea what he does for a living—maybe I could ask him…? But I’m betting he doesn’t spend his time in an office. Those muscles didn’t become so perfectly honed in a gym. And then there’s the pretty much all over tan. I’m scrutinizing him carefully, yes, definitely staring despite my best intentions. He’s slightly paler across his firm, perfectly rounded buttocks, but only very slightly. He clearly spends a great deal of his time outdoors, and not much of it around here. The north west of England is nice enough, but not widely renowned for its sub-tropical climate.

If I’m honest, I don’t as a rule think nudity is especially flattering for a man. Clothes do tend to disguise any slightly flabby areas very effectively, and all those dangly bits can be very distracting if you’re trying to hold a serious conversation. Not that conversation is high on my ‘to do’ list just now. And come to think of it, fully naked Doms are a rare enough sight even in a BDSM club. Usually that degree of exposure is reserved for we submissives who are frequently paraded around nude. But Nicholas Hardisty seems to make his own rules, and I am definitely appreciating the view just now.

He strides over to the door leading into the corridor, opens it and steps outside, quite oblivious to the display he’s about to gift to any fortunate passerby in the corridor. He’s back in a moment, carrying a tray. He returns to the bed and dumps the tray next to me before sitting down himself.

“Room service came. Coffee?”

I scramble into a sitting position, equally unembarrassed to enjoy a naked late night snack and nod my thanks. Apart from a tall carafe of coffee, milk and a bowl of those rough-cut sugar lumps you sometimes see in up-market Italian bistro’s, the tray carries a selection of dips along with bowls of vegetable chunks and a plate of still-warm strips of pitta bread. Very healthy, just the sort of food I like. How did he know? Lucky guess, must have been. He turns the two cups on the tray upright and pours coffee into each, again very un-Dom-like. ‘Serving’ of any sort is normally strictly reserved for submissives or the club staff. Doms lift nothing, unless you count whips, of course.

He hands me a cup, gesturing to me to help myself to milk and sugar. I just take the milk, and settle back against the bed head to sip my coffee. Nicholas Hardisty shifts around to arrange himself next to me, one long, tanned leg bent at the knee and the other stretched out lazily. I can’t resist a surreptitious peek at his now less than impressive erection, wondering what sort of provocation it might take to re-kindle it. Maybe later. Hopefully…

We sip in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Nicholas reaches for the now half empty carafe and offers me a refill. I accept, and we repeat the pouring and milk ritual.

“Fancy a nibble?” He lifts the tray and pulls it closer, carefully balancing it across our knees. “Please don’t scoff all the hummus—I intend to lick that off your nipples a little later. But you’re welcome to anything else…”

My nipples! Christ!
I feel my face burning—despite this evening’s dizzying succession of intimacies I’m not beyond embarrassment it would appear, and he chuckles softly. “It’s playtime, sweetheart, and now that we’ve started to widen your horizons a little, I’m nowhere near finished with you yet. I’m thinking maybe we could try some of this garlic mayonnaise on your clit too. Unless you’re in a hurry to get away, obviously…?

I shake my head, my expression no doubt somewhat dazed. He chooses not to comment, just nods briefly and helps himself to a carrot stick. He dunks it in the garlic mayonnaise, perhaps intending to start developing a taste for the stuff. I can but hope. But he holds it out to me instead, and I obediently open my mouth for him to pop it in.

“Good girl. Now, eat up. You’ll be needing your strength.”

Chapter Five

He’s right of course. I do indeed need my strength.

Nicholas Hardisty takes charge of the food, taking a mouthful for himself, then offering me the same. We clear the carrots and celery first, by mutual agreement our joint favorite, then move on to polish off the pitta. I prefer wholemeal and he seems to favor the white stuff, but otherwise we’re in total accord. The hummus remains untouched, but we make short work of the taramasalata and some sort of cheesy chivey thing. At last all the nibbles are gone, and Nicholas stands to shift the tray, placing it on the floor by the door. He brings the tub of hummus back and places it on the bedside table, along with the remaining garlic mayonnaise. His dark gray gaze is warm as he watches my reaction. I try for cool, I really do, but fail miserably. I can feel my pussy becoming wet just at the thought of what’s to come, and he bloody knows it.

Smiling softly he reaches for the hummus and places the small pot in my right hand, kindly refraining from commenting overmuch on my trembling fingers and the fact that I almost drop the lot.

“Hold tight, love. Don’t want to spill it, do we? Now, in a moment I’d like you to cover your nipples with this stuff, and then present your breasts to me. Do you know how to do that? Present your breasts, I mean?

I shake my head, a small frown on my face. And he’s no longer smiling. This might be playtime, but we’re back to Dom/sub stuff now and that’s serious, sort of. He means me to obey him, and to do this right.

“You’ll kneel, in front of me, on the bed. Usually you’d do this standing up, but since we’re here… Anyway, you’ll fold your arms behind your back, cup each elbow with the opposite hand. That pulls your shoulders back and pushes your breasts out. Very pretty. You do have beautiful breasts, by the way. Did I mention that?”

Beautiful breasts? Me?
Well I always quite liked them but no one else has ever commented. I could really get to like Nicholas Hardisty.

“But that’s enough of you fishing for compliments, Miss Stone. Get on with it please.” His formal, clipped tone seems incongruous given the light, teasing banter, but I know it’s deliberate. This is fun, we’re here to enjoy ourselves together. We’re here to indulge ourselves in fucking good sex with a generous dose of kink thrown in, but he’s the top and I’m the bottom, and we both know the rules.

He holds my gaze for a few moments more, then I give in first and drop my eyes. I focus on the pot of innocent-looking hummus and with no further ado scoop a generous helping onto the fingers of my left hand. My eyes now firmly fixed on my breasts, and more particularly my right nipple, I carefully apply the creamy, grainy substance to my body, making sure the nipple is completely covered before transferring the pot to my right hand and repeating the process with my left nipple. I’m generous, leaving no part of the rosy tips uncovered. Luckily the hummus is thick and sticky, and stays put very obligingly. Once I’m satisfied with my work I pick up a serviette from the tray and wipe my fingers, taking my time before shifting into a more formal kneeling position, and arranging my arms behind my back as instructed.

He’s right, the position does exactly what he said it would. The effect is decadent, salacious even. And doing it, inviting his attention in this way, I feel like a total slut. Deliciously, blatantly sluttish. Wonderful.

He’s lying on the bed, his shoulders propped against the headboard as he watches me. “That’s very good, little sub. For your first attempt. Now, come closer please.”

I shuffle forward on my knees, careful not to topple over as the unnatural position of my arms throws me off balance. I definitely don’t want to waste all that lovely hummus by wiping it all over the bedclothes.

“Straddle me.” The command is issued in a low tone, quiet but clear.

I obey without hesitation. Or try to. I almost over-balance when I lift my left knee to reach over him, but he makes no move to steady me, just sits still, his eyes on my breasts. I let go of my careful positioning momentarily, but quickly settle down astride his stomach and restore order.

“You’ll need to practice that. When you’re presenting your breasts to me, you don’t release your arms, not for any reason, unless I give you permission to do so. That’s to be your only warning, sub. Is there anything about my instructions that you don’t completely understand?”

I shake my head, all nervous anticipation now. All hint of playfulness is gone, Nicholas Hardisty is in total Dom mode, and absolutely terrifying. And exciting. Powerful. Thrilling. Irresistible. He reaches out his right hand to cup the underside of my left breast, lifting the soft globe slightly, testing the weight. His fingers are gentle, his touch light. It surprises me, I’d expected him to be more…severe. But he’s full of surprises, his handling of me soft and caring. Tender almost.

“Lean forward, and place your breast in my mouth. Do it slowly, please.”

I draw a slow, shaky breath, and do as I’m told.

My pussy clenches delightfully as Nicholas Hardisty’s tongue curls around my nipple. The sensitive nub has grown and hardened under the hummus, and by the time he takes it in his mouth and sucks, hard, I’m beyond aroused. My position straddling his body makes sure my engorged clitoris and labia are in contact with his naked stomach which in turn ensures he’s under no illusions regarding my growing arousal as my juices flow freely. My whole body is tingling, desperate for release, for anything, and I find that I can angle my body slightly to create the friction I’m by now absolutely craving against my clit. I try to do so only to have him growl at me.

“No taking control, little sub. Your clit can wait. Unless you’d like me to clamp it for you…?”

Christ, no!
I shake my head desperately, and make it my business to remember to sit still, no matter what he does to me.

“Thought not. Don’t interrupt again. Now, where was I?”

He quickly finds his place again, taking my nipple and much of my breast into his mouth before lapping lazily at it until all the hummus is gone and I’m panting with need. He uses his hands to lift and shape my breast, holding it in exactly the right position for his ministrations to have best effect, and I can do nothing but remain still, my arms clasped uncomfortably behind my back, all my senses focused on what he’s doing to me.

Eventually he lifts his gaze to mine again. “The other one now, please.”

He waits patiently for the few seconds it takes me to reposition myself, bringing my right breast toward his mouth. Again, he takes its weight in his hand, lifting my breast to place it exactly where he wants it in order to repeat the sensuous torture. He starts by curling just his tongue around the nipple, scooping away the hummus before flicking it lightly. Then he opens his mouth to draw more of my breast in, stroking it lightly with his fingers as he uses his lips and teeth to tease the soft, responsive curves, licking away all the creamy goo to leave my skin gleaming and clean. I gasp, my body clenching under the onslaught, but I can’t help that. I hope he won’t take issue, especially as I can feel my slick juices smearing his stomach. God, how obvious. Such a slut. If I hadn’t already had God knows how many orgasms in the last couple of hours, I’d come again, just from the skilled pressure of his tongue on my nipples, but I’m already well sated and made of sterner stuff by now it seems. Still, there’s always the garlic mayo to fall back on.

“You can move your arms now, Freya.” He lifts his gaze to mine again, still caressing my breast lazily with his palm, shaping and molding it in his hand.

I wait for the squeeze, the pinch or twist at my nipple, but it doesn’t come. He’s all gentle, all tender care. Reverent almost.

“Beautiful. Soft and round, and just fits in my hand. And your nipples are so responsive. You make my mouth water, Miss Stone, you really do. And talking of which, lie back and spread your legs please.”

Ah yes, the mayonnaise…